


i meant as is

by Wildehack (tyleet)



Series: punchworld [5]
Category: The Punchlines
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, but just like.....mild baby body horror, technically, the......lightest possible vore?, weird demon penises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyleet/pseuds/Wildehack
Summary: “You know the fun stuff happens after we take our clothes off, right?”"I know how it works," he snaps, and she's laughing at him again.yeah, this is just porn





	i meant as is

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back! with more fic about my d&d character that literally nobody asked for!*
> 
> This one needs some explaining: 
> 
> first things first guys this is ACTUAL PR0NOGRAPHY lock up your sons, lock up your daughters, hide your female-presenting nipples, blocked blocked blocked none of you are free from sin, etc
> 
> second things second: Casimir is a Tiefling who's spent most of his adult life in a mostly human-looking body. He's also been a Catholic priest his whole life. It's only very recently that he went through Tiefling puberty and acquired a grown-up Tiefling body, complete with horns and tail and bright red skin and an addition I came up with literally years ago because I thought it was hilarious and wasn't sure it would ever be relevant: a weird demon penis. 
> 
> like..........go into this PWP knowing that the whole challenge of it was trying to make the dickteeth sexy. Don't be too shocked when the teeth show up. 
> 
> also Cas is basically an Episcopalian priest now. 
> 
> third things: because Cas is insecure about the weird demon penis, it made me laugh extremely a lot to title this fic after the Ani diFranco song "As Is": 
> 
> "And I got no illusions about you
> 
> and guess what?  
> I never did  
> When I said  
> When I said I'll take it  
> I meant  
> I meant as is" 
> 
> Ilaina is a high elf and a promiscuous rogue, and also his BFF. 
> 
> ALSO, uh, this is a small thing, but Casimir is an obligate cannibal. He has ETHICS, but he does eat the flesh of sapient beings. so. 
> 
> *yes, Ilaina, I'm aware you asked. u don't count.

Casimir’s new life of vice and hedonism is going swimmingly until Ilaina stops doing whatever confusing and amazing thing she was doing with her teeth and his throat that was sending little lightning shocks down his spine, and starts unlacing his trousers.  
  
“Don’t,” Casimir says quickly, reaching down to grip her wrist, flushed so deeply that he’s practically dizzy with it.  
  
Ilaina raises an eyebrow at him, fingers stilling on his laces. “You want to stop?”  
  
“.....No,” Casimir says, because he doesn’t, and anyway he can’t quite help himself from twitching his hips up into the pressure of her hand. It occurs to him with another dumb rush of heat--to his ears, to his face, to his belly--that he’s already embarrassingly close. He clears his throat. “I just--I don’t--I’ll leave them on.”  
  
“You know the fun stuff happens after we take our clothes off, right?” She gestures expressively at her bare torso, gold and lean everywhere except for her breasts, which are shockingly pale--and soft--and, and far too small to really be as distracting as Casimir finds them. “In particular, pants need to go. Skirts I could work with, but with your new getup--”  
  
“I know how it _works_ ,” he snaps, and she’s laughing at him again. She’s been laughing a lot, and that should probably make him feel humiliated or small, but instead he feels this stupid tightness in his chest, and--he kisses her again, and she laughs against his mouth before relaxing into him, her knee sliding between his, giving him something to rock against. It’s maddening, and he doesn’t want it to stop.

“Come on, Cas,” she murmurs when they have to breathe again. “Wanna touch you.” The words hit him like a punch to the gut, low and shocking.  
  
He swallows twice before he can answer her, his mouth horrifically dry. “I,” he says, and his voice cracks a little. “I’m not exactly. Human. Anymore.”  
  
“Well,” she says seriously, “Then I have a confession to make, too. Neither am I.”  
  
He rolls his eyes. “No, I mean--my--body is not. I don’t. _Usually_ \--”  
  
“Oh,” she says, and starts tugging at the laces again. “Is this about the teeth? I know about the teeth.”  
  
“You--?” He feels slow, stupid, and he isn’t stopping her, for some reason, even when she pushes him down to the bed by his shoulders and reaches into his loosened trousers to draw him out, caught up in one of her ridiculously slender hands.  
  
“Trust me,” she says, grinning at him, and then strokes down the length of him. Casimir’s mind goes utterly blank, which is good, because he doesn’t have time to get up and lace his trousers back up while she’s fishing a little jar of oil out of her clothes, bringing her hand back cold and slick and really, really good.  
  
“Uh,” he says stupidly, as she works him up and down, finding a rhythm that’s at once foreign and familiar, biting her lower lip between her teeth like this is something _she_ wants, too, which Casimir knew she _must_ but is different to, to see the evidence of--”Uh, I don’t know, I don’t know what you should--avoid.”  
  
“We’ll figure it out,” she murmurs, and she keeps stroking him while she gets even closer, and the feeling of her breasts sliding against his chest is--deeply distracting, and he gasps into her hair for awhile before remembering that she hasn’t understood him.  
  
“No,” he says, clenching his jaw against what embarrassingly wants to be a whine, because she’s doing something really very clever with her thumb, “No, I mean--I mean I don’t know what’s--safe.”  
  
Ilaina bites the soft flesh of his earlobe, sudden and sharp, and Casimir’s breath jerks in his chest, and his thighs convulsively try to close around her hips. She laughs quietly into his ear, throbbing and slightly damp, which really should be an unpleasant feeling except that it somehow isn’t. “All right,” she says. “So let’s figure it out.”  
  
Then she leans back a little, and he nearly protests because he wants her _close_ , closer even than she was before, except that as soon as she can see him properly she gives his cock a proprietary little tug up and down before gripping the head firmly between her forefinger and thumb, pushing a little so the teeth flare.  
  
“Oh,” Casimir says, his face burning almost too badly for him to look.  
  
“Shh,” she says, and then she reaches down with her other hand and gently slides the tip of her forefinger against the teeth.  
  
Casimir lurches up to sitting, his spine moving entirely without his consent, because that feels---he doesn’t know how to _describe_ it, and later he’ll be ashamed of the noise that worked its way out of his throat in an attempt to, but he wants her to do it again, he wants---“Ilaina,” he says, and maybe something else comes out on the way to her name, but he’s not sure what it is.  
  
“Yeah,” she says, smug. “I thought maybe that’d be it.” And then she does it again, and Cas’s eyes fill with tears--which is stupid because he wants her to do it _again_ , and when she does he flinches up into her so hard that her hand slides right off of him, and then he’s just sort of shivering against her, mouth open and still not really finding air, and she’s laughing at him some more.  
  
“I’ve got you,” she says, the laugh still in her voice, and guides his head down to her shoulder. Casimir presses something that might pass for a kiss to the warm skin of her neck, his hands clutching at her ribcage, and tries to hold himself together while she strokes him again, ordinary slick strokes that take up the entirety of his attention. He’s never felt as completely _in_ his body, he thinks distantly, even when he was burned up in the Fire trial, when he was raw and new all over.  
  
He comes like that, trembling against her throat, jerking his hips up into her hand while his spine goes liquid and strange. It’s different than it’s ever been before, and he doesn’t know if that’s because his entire body is different now, or if it’s just different when it’s with someone else.  
  
And then--just when he thinks it’s over, she reaches her finger back into the open slit, swirling the pad of her forefinger against the teeth--and it turns out he really _can’t_ bear it, because he cries out and--and _bites down_.  
  
Ilaina yelps, and Casimir is instantly horrified even through the haze of his orgasm, and drags his gaze down to her hand--the teeth are already letting her go, thank Christ, but she’s--her finger is--punctured, bleeding, and that’s objectively terrible and wrong except that the sight of it does something unexpected to Casimir’s gut, like another shivery aftershock, and before he can talk himself out of it he’s grabbing her hand, bringing it up to his mouth.  
  
“What--?” she starts, but then he must answer the question by pressing a brief kiss to her wounded finger and then sucking it down. It’s pure instinct, but he knows it’s right--soothing the bright coppery punctures with his tongue, and sharing the--the feeling of--he’s not exactly sure what he’s waiting for, but he knows it’s good.  
  
It’s Ilaina’s turn to choke. “O--kay,” she says, and caresses his hollowed jaw with her thumb. “Not sure this is the time for a snack, but--”  
  
\--Her eyes abruptly go wide, and Casimir understands. It’s hitting him too, in waves.  
  
She wrenches her hand out of his mouth, and he moans a little with the loss of it, but it’s all right--it’s _better_ than all right, because she’s kissing him again, frantic, and her thighs are parting around one of his, and she’s grinding down, rolling against him, wet and obscene.  
  
“Are you--is your--are you packing a fucking _aphrodisiac_ down there,” she pants, and she sounds _giddy_. She gets her arm down between their bodies, and he realizes with a throb that she’s rubbing at herself.  
  
“How should I know,” Casimir manages, and is briefly impressed that you might not be able to tell from his voice that his spent cock is twitching uselessly against her thigh, and he uses the boost of confidence to drag one hand away from her ribcage and down her spine in one firm drag. He isn’t quite brave enough to--to take her ass in his hand like he wants to, press his fingers _in_ to the wet hot center of her, but whatever chemical intervention his ancestors gave him must make it enough. Ilaina lets out a low, pleased grunt, and then rocks her hips sharply against his thigh, once, twice, three times--“ _Cas_ ,” she says, and he thinks why in God’s name have we not been doing this all along.  
  
“There,” Ilaina says after a while, collapsed against his chest, one of his hands tangled in her hair, her thighs still clenched around one of his, and--he’s going to have to _burn_ these trousers. “That wasn’t so bad.”  
  
“It--” Casimir hesitates. “No. It wasn’t.”  
  
She grins, and he can feel the shape of her smile against his skin. “Lightning didn’t even strike us down.”  
  
“Shut _up_ ,” Casimir says, and she laughs at him again.

**Author's Note:**

> DICKTEETH DICKTEETH DICKTEETH 
> 
> listen you should hear what I came up with for the UTERUS-HAVING Tieflings. Vaginal stingers! In a normal Tiefling reproductive situation, these poor motherfuckers provoke the vagina-haver into an orgasm, at which point the stinger descends and provokes the dick into biting the weird Tiefling cervix by STINGING IT, which releases more happy orgasm chemicals which opens up the weird Tiefling cervix enough so that the weird demon sperm have a chance of fighting their way up that hostile channel to an egg. Normal reproductive tiefling sex involves SPECTACULAR CHEMICALLY ASSISTED ORGASMS for both parties, some built in masochism, and probably only like a 20% chance of ending up in a baby, anyway. 
> 
> Evolution didn't come up with this shit. The demons who created Tieflings did! Which is how I justify all this body horror, aside from rule of funny.
> 
> uh. don't judge me too harshly, friends


End file.
